


Under the Plate

by Lemon_drop_lantana



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: BDSM, Coercion, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, Lapdance, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Sex Worker Cloud
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_drop_lantana/pseuds/Lemon_drop_lantana
Summary: Shortly after he makes SOLDIER, Cloud's life falls apart.  He finds that his best option is to take Don Corneo's coercive offer of employment and becomes Wall Market's least enthusiastic whore.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Original Character(s), Reno & Cloud Strife
Kudos: 34





	1. Dirty tricks

“You’ve got a rookie,” Folia says, smacking a sheet of paper onto Clouds vanity with one manicured hand.

Cloud cracks open an eye and lowers his feet from their usual position, propped up in front of his mirror. It’s disappointing. He thought he might get away with a rare unbooked hour. 

Tuesdays can be slow. He raises blond eyebrows waiting for her to go on and tell him about whoever just rented him for an hour.

“A girl. She’s cute…. so you’re welcome…” she says eventually, into lingering silence. Cloud straightens his back and picks up the form in front of him. “A walk in? What does she want?” She knows but he says it anyway, “You know I don’t usually do newbies.” 

It wasn’t necessarily by preference. Cloud doesn't really care who he is signed up to fuck, or, just as often, the reverse, but he tends to attract a more experienced clientele. He isn’t the sort to put anxious johns at ease and the front desk crew at the Honeybee Inn know very well how to guide a client to just the right experiences.

“She insisted. As soon as she saw your headshot it was over. I tried to steer her towards Dario but… I guess she just wants that ice cold dick of yours,” Folia said with a shrug of one bare shoulder. She was getting used to Cloud’s attitude and tried not to let it piss her off every time. She understood his... situation... better than most of the girls on the floor because she needed to, to work the desk. But, dammit, he didn’t have to be such an ass all the time, did he? 

Cloud humphs in response. He's immune, at this point, to the flattery of people wanting him. “And what does she want with my dick?” he repeats, keeping his irritation simmering under a calm, indifferent tone. 

“She wants a fuck,” Folia retorts sharply. “What do you think? Does it have to be so complicated?” She takes a deep breath and meets his bright blue eyes. Such sweet eyes for such an angry guy. It's obvious why Corneo recruited him. And why clients came back even though she can't imagine him actually trying to please anyone. Cloud just screamed “sexy” without even trying, even while trying to drive everyone away. It might even be the anger as much as the sweet face and ripped physique. _Who doesn’t like a challenge?_

“Look, I asked her the normal twenty questions, but I don’t think she really came with a wish list, ok? I thought you’d be happy. You don’t get many vanilla fucks and at least you won’t be taking it up the ass this time.”

Clouds looks up at her, his irritation growing into anger with a roll of strong shoulders. He doesn't like talking about what happens when the doors close behind him, though he knows there aren't any secrets at the Inn. Someone is usually watching. 

“If she didn’t tell you anything, how do you know that’s even true?” 

Folia rolls her eyes, “She’s not the type. And she didn’t pay enough to fuck you or beat you anyway.” Cloud’s eyes are flat. 

“They don’t always pay up front,” he says with a level voice.

“Just read the fucking sheet,” Folia is already heading back to front. “She’s in room six.” She mutters to herself about ungrateful dickheads before turning the corner. 

Cloud picks up the client sheet. “Lila” is scrawled across the top. He doesn't bother wondering if it's her real name, because he doesn't care. Most clients use pseudonyms. He supposes he could be grateful that it doesn't say “Daddy,” which he can still barely choke out when required.

“Lila” has paid the standard rate, which includes 90% of what the Inn’s clients want: P in V sex, oral, light bondage… all the usual stuff. Since he’s a man, clients who want to fuck him, men or women, have to pay extra for the privilege. Same goes for anyone who wants to choke, beat, or otherwise leave marks on him. Or indulge in even weirder kinks. Corneo was right when he told Cloud that he had a face that just begs “ _top me_ .” That’s why Cloud is a top earner, even though he sees fewer clients. By now, Cloud knows well that there are much worse things to endure than being hurt. He’d probably rather be whipped than made up like a girl with makeup and lingerie. Although sometimes he’s _lucky_ enough to get both.

In the section where special requests are noted, Folia has scribbled in “street clothes,” which makes him clench his teeth in irritation. Now he actually has to go to his locker and get his own clothes to wear into the suite. He fucking hates wearing his own clothes. Unless he is exceptionally careful, he often ends up with cum or lube on him... and he doesn’t need to bring reminders home from work. He'd much rather put on the idiotic SOLDIER costume or leather harness.

Flipping over the piece of paper over, Cloud scoffs out loud. The back of a client form lists a slew of sex acts so that their escort knows any firm boundaries or special requests. Cloud appreciates specificity, but he doubts that _Lila_ has bothered to read the list. The newbie has drawn a snaking down from the top of the page to the bottom, passing through all the “yes” boxes. Her signature is scrawled at the bottom. The list spanned the gamut, from kissing and biting, to rimming and beating, and beyond. She essentially had consented for him to walk into the room, backhand her across the face, and then take her ass dry. There were safe words, of course--standard at the inn--and he’d obviously respond to a simple “no,” but what a fucking idiot. Someone like Dario would probably try some of that stuff, and a “stop” doesn’t help much when there are already teeth in your shoulder.

Cloud rolls his eyes. This chick has no idea what she is doing and he is not in the mood to guide her--today or, well, ever. He doesn't expect that she is really into that stuff, especially if she’s new to the Inn. She has provided zero useful guidance and probably wants the “boyfriend experience,” which is something he _definitely_ does not offer. _Ugh. The talking..._

He shrugs his black robe off, drops it over the back of his chair, and heads to the lockers, back just as straight as if he were headed to sword training. The other escorts are sitting around chatting idly or prepping themselves for their next client. A blur of legs and bustles, body glitter and perfume. No one turns to speak to him, although he gets some standard side eye for his attitude, or possibly for the appealing lines of his near-naked body. Six months and he still doesn't fit in here… not that he has tried in the slightest. 

Cloud grabs his jeans out of his locker and pulls them on over the tight black briefs. Rifling around in the bottom of his gym bag, he is happy to find a crumpled black tank top that doesn’t stink and pulls it over his head. That will have to be sufficient. There is no way he is wearing his leather jacket into a suite.

He bangs the locker shut, locks it, and heads back, ignoring the small tin on the top shelf. This girl is likely to be annoying, but he doesn't think he needs any chemical support for what will likely be a straight vanilla fuck. 

He stops at his mirror out of habit and to check for any visible bites and bruises. It’s been a few days since he worked and Cloud assumes he’s all healed up, but he still gives himself the usual cursory once-over, paying careful attention to his neck. Nothing but pale skin and freckles.

He lifts his shirt and looks over his shoulder to check his back. He’d still had some welts from a belt on Sunday, but they appeared to have faded. What a blessing, he thinks bitingly to himself, that all this mako-enhanced healing allows him to take extra beatings and return with unblemished skin so quickly. It’s a surprising overlap he has found between skill sets for SOLDIERs and whores.

Just as he starts heading down that dangerous line of thinking, Marie walks past him, trailing a finger over his exposed abs as he looks over his shoulder towards the mirror. Her hair is messy… just back from a client then.

“Go get ‘em, soldier boy.”

He smacks her hand away. “Fuck off, Marie.” 

Grabbing the client form, Cloud strides down the escort’s hallway (the clients have their own entrances to the suites). He nods politely at Miko, patrolling up and down the hallway as he walks to the last door on the right. Not allowing himself to hesitate for a second, he opens it, and heads in.

The blue suite. It’s actually his favorite Maybe Folia really was trying to do him a solid. The room is smaller and less garish than most of the others. Windowless with dark blue walls, furniture and carpet... it's like being slipped into a pocket. There is a big bed tucked into an alcove, a loveseat sitting in the middle of the room next to a stocked bar cart, and little else. A small bathroom hidden behind a folding screen allows for cleanup, but isn't spacious enough to really fuck in, which suits Cloud just fine.

Seated on the sofa, legs crossed at the knee, is his john. She's young -- maybe even younger than he is, although that would make her barely old enough to patronize a brothel. Wearing a navy dress that blends into the surroundings, her pale skin seems like the brightest thing in the room... It looks creamy and soft, unlike his own which is translucent, freckled, and scarred. Dark chestnut hair waves halfway down her back. Brown eyes seem eager to catch his own. Pink cheeks, full lips. Folia was right. She _is_ cute. She looks... wholesome. Like she could be one of those starry eyed girls on Shinra recruitment posters. Really outside the norm of Honeybee clients. 

Cloud avoids her eyes and turns to close the door quietly behind him. He is unsure how to start. None of the personas he usually uses with clients are going to be appropriate for this, and why the fuck didn’t this chick just go sit at any of the dozens of bars in Wall Market for a few minutes if she really wants to get laid. What exactly is she expecting from him?

“Hi,” he says, turning back and consciously bringing his eyes to meet hers. He thinks about smiling, tries to smile actually, but can't quite make it happen. “I’m Cloud.”

“Yeah,” she replies with a twist of her lips… and then she hesitates for a few seconds. She doesn't introduce herself, just meets his eyes expectantly for a few beats, and then looks away to sip at the highball in her hand. Is she… disappointed? Does she think he should know her? 

_Joke’s on her. Four years here and I don't know a single fucking chick in all of Midgar. Besides a few whores, of course._

Cloud knows he needs to come closer. His feet carry him forward and he sits down on the loveseat, back leaning into the armrest to face her. He’s about as far away as a person can get while sharing the tiny sofa. He crosses one bare foot up onto a knee and drapes his elbow casually over the back of the sofa, trying to pull off cocky confidence instead of “nervous hooker.”

“So....” he looks back at the paper. He remembered her name but wants to poke at her a bit for not giving it to him herself. “Lila.” Having said her name aloud Cloud realizes it makes him feel very aware of his tongue, rolling against the back of his teeth. 

“What is it that I can do for you?” 

When Andrea fed him this line, Cloud knew that it was meant to set the mood. The words are supposed to be breathed onto the curve of a neck or teased with a tracing finger. Cloud delivers them like he is asking what toppings she wants on her pizza.

The pretty brunette wrinkles her nose a bit at his directness. She knocks back most of whatever is in her glass, ice rattling as she sets the glass back on her thigh. Cloud watches as the glass presses a ring of wetness on what looks like silk as she rallies herself.

“I’m... not really sure. What do _you_ like to do?” She tosses back with an appraising look. 

That's a hard question for Cloud to answer honestly. He doesn't like anything that he does here.

“Uhmm… You mean in general?”

She smiles and shrugs, “Sure.” Then tilts her head. “Or when you're… _hard_... at work,” she adds with a wink.

She delivers the line well. The wink is quick and actually adorable. It might have charmed him once upon a bar. But here… he has no inclination to flirt or talk about himself. “Well I mostly see men,” he tells her in an even voice. “I'm not sure it applies.” 

“Oh…” He’s definitely thrown her. She's uncertain now, looking away. “I.. umm… Is that your preference then? I just.. we don't..”

Cloud lets a few more words stumble out before he cuts them off. 

“No. I don’t prefer men. But my preferences aren't really relevant here.” He means here in this room. “In this job” is implied as well. Or maybe “in general” applies here too.

“They are relevant to me.” She gives a winning smile, but gets only a steady gaze in return. After a few beats she tries again. “Tell you what.. I'll wrestle you for it. I pin you and you have to tell me something that you like.”

Clouds eyes narrow, wondering if she knows him from his fighting days. If she does, the request is even stupider than it sounds. 

“Do you see my eyes? Know what they mean?” _Mako eyes_.

Lila shrugs. “Yeah well… I grew up under the plate and most every dude is twice as strong as me. Maybe you're ten times stronger. So what? I'm scrappy.”

“Scrappy.” Cloud repeats. She gives one nod.

He considers the idea. At least it's a request that doesn’t require him to talk. _If she wants me to hold her down she should have just specified it on the damn sheet._

“Fine. I pin you and you do the same.” 

He stands and looks at her expectantly, not even bothering to spread his feet into stance. He's got at least forty pounds on her and the difference is all muscle. “Let’s go.”

Lila sets her drink on top of the cart and looks back at him consideringly. And then, without even a twitch to warn him, she launches straight off the sofa like a bat out of hell. Her shoulder plows into his hips while her arms wrap around his thighs, the left one scooping low to lift his knee and throw off his balance.

Cloud lands heavily on his ass, cursing like a Turk. Making the most of her momentum, Lila tries to scrabble up onto his chest and force him backwards. She reaches one arm to get her elbow around his neck, the other hooking under his shoulder, pressing down on top of him with all her weight, straining to get his shoulders to the floor for the pin.

Cloud is pissed… mostly at himself. He might be a bit impressed with her. _Okay I can see scrappy._ But it doesn’t matter... he’s still got enough mako in his veins that this girl has zero chance of forcing his back to the floor. He grabs the wrist from behind his head and jerks her arm behind her back. Then with a quick twist of his shoulders, he flips them over and presses his other forearm across her chest at shoulder level. Out of fairness, he gives her the full three seconds to make the pin “official,” but she can’t shift her shoulders an inch under his weight. She huffs out a breath in irritation. _I guess I expected it._

“You lose.” He’s already pulling up off of her, mouth unexpectedly curving into a smile.

“Yeah, well… I still knocked you on your ass.”

“That was a dirty trick.” _And I should have known better_. He rises up back to his feet and looks down at her, shifting up onto her elbows. Her skirt is now revealing nearly all one shapely thigh. He doesn’t offer her a hand up.

“I should have tried tickling you.”

Cloud ignores that. He turns away and grabs her highball glass, lifting it to his nose. Whiskey on the rocks. Stiff drink for such a petite girl. He pours in more and knocks it back while she rights herself and pouts back onto the loveseat. One more tip of the bottle and he pushes the glass into her hand.

“So…. Lila.” her name rolls around in his mouth again… “per the terms of our agreement, you’re up. What are we doing here? There’s a whole shitload of possibilities on the piece of paper next to you.” It's a lot of words for Cloud, and he considers that having to talk to a client all night might be his own personal hell.

Lila just ignores the form and looks up at him, twirling the amber fluid in her glass. Taking a sip. Considering. She had hoped to connect in _some_ way, but her little wrestling ploy hasn’t seemed to warm him up in the slightest. Although the effortless way he pinned her to the floor sure warmed _her_ up. 

“Umm..” She trails off. Lila had really thought this whole thing might just happen organically. She wants Cloud so badly she’s been wet since she stepped foot in the Inn, but she feels like she’s assigning him homework. 

Cloud is beginning to tire of this. He’s been in the suite for ten minutes and he’s no closer to getting back out of it. If he can just wrap this up he might get some time to himself before his next client. He slides back into the loveseat and snatchs up the paper. “I see that you signed off for me to choke you with my belt. Should we start there?” His tone is idly hostile and he leans forward, just slightly closer to her space.

The brunette narrows her eyes and slouches with frustration against the back of the loveseat. She’s facing the bed rather than him. “You know, I’m trying to be nice here. I thought escorts were supposed to be… you know... sexy… and accommodating.”

It makes him laugh out loud. “Sorry. You picked the wrong one.” 

It also makes him realize what a shitty job he is doing here. He hasn’t made the slightest effort to put her at ease, much less start smoothing the way to the actual deed. This is a constant battle Cloud has with himself. He doesn't want to touch his johns. Doesn't want to give them an ounce more than is required… but he also knows it does faster and easier if he does. _Don’t make things harder on yourself._

“Hey,” he says softly. Cloud brings his hand artlessly to her shoulder, and lets his fingers trace down her side until they catch on her hip. He presses into her gently. The dress is soft and slippery… it smoothes the way back and forth along her skin as his fingers trace the curve of her hip. 

“Why don’t you just tell me exactly what you want?” He makes an effort to lower his tone. His seduction is mechanical… applying the rules he’s been taught or picked up… but Cloud is pretty enough that it doesn’t really matter. Clients seem to respond to him anyway and Lila is no exception. She shifts her body towards him slightly and looks at him with a sideways glance. 

“Well… I just…” she falters. “I mean we don’t have to…” She finally finishes in a rush, “I’d be happy just seeing you come.” _Ugh. He’s just so god damn gorgeous. I’m acting like an idiot._

Cloud schools his face neutral. He fucking hates this shit. Being observed like he’s a doll or a toy. Clients always want to see him with his guard down. It’s hard enough to get off at this job without feeling like he’s putting on a god damn show every time his cock starts to pulse.

There’s absolutely no good to come from sharing his feelings on the topic. His brain checks back in with his fingers. They haven’t stalled while he’s in his head. They are still rubbing her body in gentle circles… ok that’s good. 

“And how do you propose we make that happen?” He presses his palm flat to her and then squeezes gently, trying to offset the edge that has crept into his voice.

Lila squirms. “Well… however. I mean, I could touch you… that would be fine. We don’t have to do more… is that what you want?” 

She’s desperately uncomfortable and she’s trying to please him. Cloud realizes this is his fault, but he’s just no fucking good at playing this game with clients. With clear marching orders, he can deliver. Get out of his own head and just follow the steps like it’s a recipe. He doesn’t want to be responsible for the experience, to pick and choose. To prefer. But Lila wants him to _participate_.

“What I want... is to deliver on what you’ve requested,” he says. The low tone could read as sexy, he hopes. “And paid for.” He’s not sure what possessed him to add this. Not many clients like to be reminded that they’re paying for it.

Lila doesn’t respond. She sits silently with tight lips letting his words sink in. _This was a mistake. I should get out of here._

Cloud can tell instantly that she is on the cusp of packing up this shit show. She’s about to smack his hand away from her and leave. _Shit_ . _Andrea is going to murder me she walks out of here. I have totally fucked this up._

Cloud racks his brain trying to figure out how to do damage control in the three seconds he has left. He feels, like always, that he just doesn’t have the tools to do this. Most of the women who see him want him to dominate them. Something about SOLDIER eyes makes everyone think of power imbalance, one way or the other. He pulls on that experience in desperation. 

When Lila opens her lips, probably about to tell him to just fuck off, he claps his hand over her mouth. It’s not lost on him that it’s his own mouth he actually should have shut up. 

“Enough talking.”

Her eyes flash at him but she complies, going quiet, still tense. Cloud turns his body over hers on the loveseat. Still keeping distance between them, he hovers over her, straddling her thighs. He’s got her trapped.

Cloud takes the drink out of her hand and brings the glass to her mouth pressing to her soft lower lip. When her lips part slightly, he tips a slow, steady stream whiskey into her mouth. Lila swallows gamely, looking up at him with eyes so dark and wide he thinks she wants to swallow him up too. A trickle of whiskey slips from the corner of her mouth and runs down her neck to stop in the hollow of her collarbone. Before he knows what’s happening, Cloud laps it up with a flat tongue. 

Lila gasps at the sudden contact, but it’s Cloud who is more shocked. He can’t recall ever putting his mouth on a client unbidden. It makes him want to pull away, but he’s still trying to coerce Lila into staying and he needs every advantage. He pushes himself to make the most of their closeness. 

Breathing against her neck, he speaks quietly.

“You asked for a fuck… and that’s what you’re going to get.”

The words sink into Lila with a shudder and her head lolls back on the couch. Cloud pushes himself up with one hand pressing her shoulder so that he can consider her face and see if this last minute seduction overture is working. Her teeth are rolling over her lower lip. Cheeks pink. Eyes lidded. She looks half melted and he feels proud. Even more, he is inordinately relieved that this is looking salvageable… and then feels a stab of irritation. _Here I am, desperately fighting to keep this… job._

Wanting to seal the deal, Cloud pulls out one of his best moves. SOLDIER brute strength is always a winner… girls love it. He remembers how one of the firsts used to do curls in bars with girls hanging off his forearms. That dude got laid all the time. 

Cloud presses Lila around the ribs and lifts her bodily off the loveseat, provoking another startled gasp as her hands look for purchase, sliding around his arms to curl around his biceps. He turns towards the alcove and sets her down gently on her feet. With her shoes on she is nearly as tall as he is so he looks her cooly in the eye and says, “Get in the bed.” 

Then he places one flat hand on her abdomen and pushes her firmly enough that she stumbles backwards until the bed hits her knees and she sits heavily on the edge. Cloud can hear her breathe deeply and he pushes himself to maintain eye contact. Like he’s in control of the situation here. 

When she kicks off her heels and starts shifting herself up to sit against the padded headboard, he feels the tension in his chest release a bit and he takes a deep breath to try and slow his heart rate. He knows that Andrea, as generous as the man has actually been to him, might actually kick him out if another client walks out on him. 

Cloud starts mentally getting into the game. He needs to be hard, and at this is the point where he usually picks a memory from the cache he’s stored away just for this purpose. About half of them involve memories of parking with Tifa in her dad’s old truck when he was fifteen. Although… he looks at Lila leaning against the pillows on the bed, legs tucked to one side. She’s pretty, he won’t deny it. Her face is sweet in a conventional way, but she’s got some sharp edges--like someone who would, well, knock him on his ass with a dirty trick. And he can see that she’s absolutely panting for him with her fingers twisting nervously through wavy hair. Waiting to see what he'll do next. 

He doesn’t usually think about clients when he’s with them. For the most part they’re dudes anyway, and it's rare that a man catches his eye. Even more, it feels almost like cheating on himself to give in like that.

But fuck it. Cloud is half hard already, just from her gasping while he licked alcohol off her neck. He decides to give himself a pass with Lila. Although he’s gotten used to people wanting him, this desperate, doe-eyed desire is different than the hungry, predatory lust Cloud is accustomed to seeing.

Bending down, he grabs a few supplies from the bottom of the bar cart. He lobs a bottle of lube overhand onto the bed and Lila watches it land near her knee. Two rolled up hand towels join it, and then he snags a condom. He holds it up between two fingers for her to see, twisting it so the gold foil catches in the dim light. Catching his meaning, she shakes her head slightly so he drops it back on the cart.

Cloud is mostly indifferent. He’s used to going bareback. The mako in his blood basically rules out pregnancies or STDs… it’s one of the reasons Corneo wanted him. It's in his contract that he’ll fuck bareback. Although a condom does make it easier to fake an orgasm.

He turns back to Lila and her restless hands on the bed, quieting his brain for a minute to take in the sight. Legs shifting against each other as she fidgets. Chest rising with heavy breath. She’s not particularly voluptuous, but she still looks like nothing so much as soft curves and smooth skin and desire. It’s working for him.

He keeps looking, hoping she can’t tell that he’s not really meeting her eyes, while he unbuckles his belt and slips the jeans from his hips. Briefs follow. The black tank top stays on. He likes the layer of protection, and it’s already dirty from his morning trip to the gym anyway. 

It’s only four steps to the bed, but he takes them slowly, wrapping one hand around his cock and stroking up and down. His touch is casual. Workman-like. Getting hard for the job.

Cloud hears a soft sound come from her throat as she watches him touch himself. She is trying to be quiet but he has very good hearing. It makes him smirk a bit. He points two fingers at her and flicks them to the side.

“Clothes.”

She startles and moves slowly to follow his command. The blue silk dress wraps around in front and ties at her left hip. Her hands are shaking as she undoes the knot and slowly unwraps the dress. It doesn't appear to be teasing… she looks nervous as fuck. It’s weird for a john, and he doesn’t let it be endearing. 

Lila lets the dress lay open around her body, and seems to run out of steam. She looks back shyly at him. She doesn’t want to do it herself. She's just keeps cornering Cloud into making the decisions tonight. 

Her body is gorgeous. She's more muscular than he had realized, with toned abs and legs giving her body more definition than he expected. Her waist is tiny and he wishes he could see her ass. The whole sweet package is wrapped up in a black bra and panties. Smooth strips of satin hugging in the best places. The fabric looks just as soft as her dress and Cloud has the sudden urge to rub his cheek against the material. To press his teeth to her nipples and feel them harden through black satin. To stroke her through the panties and see if she'll gasp again. 

He doesn’t do any of that. 

Instead, he reaches forward with one hand, hooks her ankle between two fingers, and yanks. Lila yelps as she slips down to the foot of the bed where Cloud kneels. Her dress, still on her shoulders, has spread up under her back. She looks up at him like a rabbit in a snare... eyes wide and mouth parted.

_It’s like she’s forgotten she’s in charge here._

Cloud straddles her hips and takes her right hand which was pressed to her chest. He raises the arm and positions it back on the bedding, hand just above her head. He presses two fingers firmly into her wrist. _Keep it here._ He brings the left hand to join, laying it in the palm of the right. Pressure on the wrist again. _This one too._

He’s barely touched her, just crawled over her naked, hard, and appearing deceptively decisive, but Lila is panting… chest heaving like she’s running out of air. With his fingers at her wrist, Cloud can feel her pulse racing. He starts to worry that she might actually hyperventilate and pass out. It would be awkward to deal with. He knows that has happened once or twice before with clients who like to be choked, but this encounter doesn't need any more hiccups.

Cloud shifts onto his side, laying next to Lila as he considers how to get her to calm down. Kissing, stroking, and talking are not options he considers. Instead, he takes two fingers, fits them under her jaw and turns her head away from him. He curls closer to her, bringing his mouth near the long line of her exposed neck. He takes a deep breath and sighs all the air from his lungs slowly onto her skin _._

He feels her swallow and arch and controls himself enough to avoid pressing his mouth to her again. _Shhh._ He repeats the breathing pattern. _Useful for spars and overexcitable johns_. Deep breath in through the nose, out through the mouth, warming her skin. Around the fifth iteration she breathes in at the same time. 

“Good.” he whispers.

Three more cycles and she can almost match his slow pace. But Lila is getting impatient. She turns her head towards him firmly and his fingers end up tracing across her mouth as she brings her face within inches of his.

Startled by the closeness of long lashes and pink lips, Cloud nearly flinches back. He pushes himself up to sitting awkwardly. He tries to give his reaction purpose. With absolutely no preamble, he hooks his fingers into the black panties and pulls them off as he moves to the end of the bed. 

Then he slides back onto the covers between her legs, spreading his knees wide to fit around her hips, lifting her thighs to rest on his. Cloud hoists her left calf to rest on his shoulder and bends her right leg to the side. The position leaves Lila totally exposed and she squirms bashfully, looking up at the ceiling. More important to Cloud, this position makes it hard for a john to sit up and touch him. Thus, it’s a favorite. Cloud lets his eyes dart up to check on her. For now, she seems willing to keep her hands where he placed them. 

Momentum. One step, then the next. Cloud sets two fingers on a curve of muscle near her knee, and traces a course down the back of a smooth thigh. He makes it clear what is next. Lila’s hips rock slightly and she bites her lip. When the touch finally reaches its destination, Cloud strokes her softly, running his fingers, one after the other, between her labia, barely ghosting over her clit. Her head rolls with a quiet groan.

She is dripping wet. Puddle-on-the-bed wet. It reminds Cloud of finally touching a fifteen year of Tifa after hours of necking. He is the slightest bit flattered. _Guess we don't need this._ He tosses the lube onto the floor so it won’t roll around. As her legs flex responsively, Cloud traces up to her clit and back down to her slot a few times, spreading the wetness while she bites back soft sounds.

He likes the way her breasts press into the black satin as she clenches her hands and arches her back. He likes the feeling of the firm muscles under soft skin where he holds her thigh against his chest. He nearly brings those two fingers to his mouth to taste her. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he presses them into her body, sliding in to the last knuckle, twisting, and pushing in even deeper to her warmth. He has moved a little faster than usual because Lila seems wet and needy, but she’s actually pretty tight and responds with a gasp and a hiss. Cloud slows his fingers and strokes softly, squeezing her thigh in apology. 

Sitting quietly and not looking at her face, Cloud reflects on her behaviour. How tight, and wet, and nervous she is. 

“... are you old enough to be here?” He wonders how young someone would have to be to actually get turned away. The Don isn’t discriminating.

“Yes,” she grates out, more focused on his fingers moving inside her. He’s quiet for a minute.

“Have you done this before?”

Lila brings her half lidded eyes to meet his curiously. _Paid for it?_

“Sex.” he clarifies. 

  
She rolls her eyes closed and turns her head to side, not bothering to answer. Her right heel kicks into his ass, knocking him forward a bit.

Cloud nearly huffs a laugh. He gives her three fingers roughly so she’ll keep her eyes closed… but he can tell she likes it..

She’s wet, she’s moaning, he’s still hard… he figures it’s fine to just go straight to fucking without further delay. Cloud wraps one arm around the leg on his chest, pressing her thigh to him tightly. His other slides under her hips, easily supporting her weight as he picks her up, rises to his knees, and slides her straight onto his cock. Lila isn’t expecting to be filled so quickly, without the fanfare, and she tightens around him with a high, breathy sound.

Cloud hates himself for loving how good this feels. Her body is warm and welcoming and rolling like she is _desperate_ for it. His hips grind against her, trying to get deeper, almost before the first sensations reach his brain.

Eyes closed, Cloud mentally separates the pleasure of fucking a warm, willing body from the experience of actually _being_ with another person. A person who bought an hour’s access to his body. However cute she is.

He teases the two concepts apart, and once they’re fully distinct, he allows the physical pleasure to settle into his chest. To raise the hair on the back of his neck. It is okay that this feels _so fucking good_. It doesn’t mean he has to feel any differently about the rest.

He opens his eyes. Lila is staring at him. Watching carefully. Hands still above her head. She’s trembling and sliding her right thigh against his hip insistently. 

He draws back and jerks his hips forward to meet hers again. She didn’t make any requests so he’s going to do this exactly how he wants. Hard and fast enough to keep her breathless and on her back.

The bruising pace feels fucking perfect, and has the added benefit of working through some of his lingering irritation with her. Lila isn’t objecting. She might be closer to screaming although he can see her jaw clench, trying to keep it in. Cloud tips his head back to gaze at the ceiling, half closes his eyes, and focuses on the sensation… trying to lose track of where he is entirely.

A muffled whimper draws his eyes back down before he can drift away. _Too rough?_

Lila has plunged one hand to pull her hair, the other is pressing to her mouth. Cloud watches as her lips part to admit her curled middle finger. She bites down hard and he can see the red indentations left by her teeth as she tries to quiet her whimpers.

He slows his pace as he watches. 

“Are you…?”

“Don’t stop,” she chokes out.

Cloud shifts away from fast and furious, to deep and rolling. Lila is sliding on her silk dress with each thrust and Cloud tightens his hands on her to keep her still. Her eyes stay closed, so Cloud feels safe enough to watch her toss her head around on the bed.

Watching keeps him _here…_ _here in this room…_ so he usually wouldn’t. But… _fuck… she looks good getting fucked._

Lila shifts her hands down her body, pressing them hard against her skin like they belong to someone else. First to wrap around the sides of her neck.. fingertips dragging from spine to collarbone. Then pushing flat down along the sides of her torso, squeezing her rib cage… running firmly across her abdomen like she wants to be tighter, wants to feel him even more inside. Then finally smoothing back up her flat stomach to skim over her breasts, fingertips tracing one by one over nipples still wrapped in black satin.

Cloud feels like he has sunk deep into warm water. There’s pressure in his ears, behind his eyes, against the back of his head. He wants to send his own hands on the same path and let her feel the strength of him pressing her down into the mattress like they could both sink into it. 

He grips her legs harder to keep his hands still.

Lila isn’t done. With one hand she hooks two fingers into the cup of her bra and pulls it down under her breast, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the hard nipple revealed. The other hand grabs her other breast, over her bra, and squeezes hard. Cloud’s brain stutters to a stop as he watches her work herself over.

“Shit…” Cloud utters quietly to himself, hips slowing, mouth hanging half open as a wave of desire rolls over him.

And then an exclamation, “ _SHIT,”_ when he realizes that he’s gonna come. Right now.

“Clients first” is a firm rule… and he got so distracted he hasn’t made the slightest effort to actually get her off. HIs dick isn’t magical after all, girls require some work. Getting himself to orgasm usually requires such intense concentration that he has plenty of time, but Lila’s little show has taken him out like a surprise left hook. Cloud grits his teeth together and exerts every ounce of control he can gather to hold himself off. He thinks he can make it about ten seconds. fifteen if he’s lucky. He doesn’t know if that’s enough time to get her off, but...

Cloud launches an all-out campaign. He’s rolling out the red carpet. He’s shoving her in front of the bus. He’s using every dirty trick he’s learned.

He immediately drops her hip to the bed so that her hips twist, held up by the leg he’s gripping onto his shoulder, and spreading her wide open. He straddles her leg on the bed and leans back, pulling her against him, pounding into her harder, deeper, and trying to find that upward angle to hit just the right spot.. 

At the same time, he sticks the thumb of his now free hand into his mouth and brings it, wet, to her clit, rubbing her in firm, tight circles, exactly where it counts. He knows he’s being too rough on such a sensitive spot, but he’s not trying to _lure_ her into an orgasm, he’s trying to fucking throw her over the edge.

Lila is keening, thrashing, tossing her head from side to side. Her hips are flinching against the sensation but he holds her too tightly for her to get away. He thinks she’s close. But he isn’t going to make it, even to ten seconds, while he’s fucking her so hard.

When Cloud feels his balls clench and his cock start to pulse he uses his last trick.

“Lila…” he growls, breaking through her own moans to get her attention. When her eyes meet his, he commands her: “ _Come.”_

The relief he feels when she breaks apart for him, hugging her own shoulders and arching off the bed, makes his own orgasm even sweeter. He closes his eyes and rolls his head back as he spurts into her shaking, twitching body with his last few glorious thrusts. It takes a long time for his hips to still completely. He wonders if he was a part of all that noise he heard. 

When he opens his eyes and pulls out, she is stretching, arms up, eyes closed, like a happy cat. She looks extremely satisfied. Cloud is unsure if it’s because it was that good for her, or if she’s smug about making him come so hard. 

Either way, he’s back in his head. Was it better this way? When he could have actually pretended he was out on date instead of here in the Inn. Fucking someone he once might have sidled up to at a bar. He doesn’t want to think about this. He turns his face away and lowers her leg off his shoulder. He realizes he should have asked before coming inside her and the guilt has him massaging her calf and thigh. She’ll have pins and needles after all that.

Still quiet, Cloud sits on the edge of the bed, back to her and reaches behind himself to grab the towels. Without looking, he passes one to her, then uses the other to wipe himself down.

Wordlessly, he retrieves his underwear and jeans, pulling them on in one motion and buckling the belt, still in the loops. Lila is silent on the bed, other than her slowing breath. 

He walks to the door without looking at her. Puts his hand on the door knob. He’s supposed to thank her. Someone is often listening in. He turns his head just far enough to see her, freshly fucked and lovely, wrapping herself back up in blue silk.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, giving her a two finger salute. Then he walks out the door.

////

Later that night, arms tied behind his back with black rope, dick in some businessman’s mouth, Cloud comes while thinking about Lila's fingers dipping into her black bra.


	2. Hello again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud sees Lila again

Cloud didn’t expect to see Lila again. He couldn’t imagine what brought her to the Honeybee Inn the first time, and he doubted that his performance was going to bring her back either. 

Yet, he found him self drifting back that fuck over and over again over the few weeks. The sharp taste of whiskey on her collarbone. The quiet gasps she made when he was probably too rough. Those fucking fingers she ran over her tits when he barely bothered to touch her… which, and Cloud would never admit this to himself, he was starting to regret. 

After berating himself daily for fantasizing about a god damn _john_ , Cloud eventually ran out of self-disgust and admitted to himself that, like _anyone_ who was fucking about ten people a week over six months, he was bound to have one or two that weren’t terrible. He could like a fuck while still hating being a whore.

So he gives himself a pass on Lila one more time. He let himself pull on those pleasant memories as needed. Cloud thought that the urge would pass eventually, but it hasn’t yet. He even jerked off a few times which he probably hadn’t done since… honestly it was hard to remember. Maybe since he was still a SOLDIER. 

He does alter things a bit in his head. Her name is gone, her face is blurry. Their conversation has disappeared. Instead he recalls that hour in bits and pieces… individual, cock-stirring moments like something he saw in a porno. Like he wasn’t even there.

//// 

It is more than a shock when Cloud does run into her again. Of all places, in the fucking gym.

He had gone in the early afternoon, which was unusual. Trained to be an early bird, Cloud usually worked out first thing in the morning, even after work, and napped if he needed in the afternoon. Occasionally, if he had a rough night at work, he’d sleep in and come by after lunch. And this had been a particularly bad night. One that didn’t wash off easily in the shower. 

_He starts feeling sick the minute he sees the familiar name on his schedule. There’s another client first, but Cloud still goes straight to his locker to take a tab from the mint tin on the top shelf. Taking it too early is a risk, but he already feels the discomfort skritching on his skin like bugs._

_When it’s time, Janey does his eyeliner for him, holding his chin with a gentle hand and looking the whole time like she wants to say something nice to him, but keeps thinking better of it. In the end, she just sighs and says, “It’s unfair how pretty your eyes are.”_

_In the leather harness that Andrea dreamed up for him (and then said Cloud looked like a dream in), he feels like a caricature. A kinky portrait of himself. As soon as all the buckles are done, and there are a lot of them… thighs, biceps, chest, neck… he pulls the black robe back over his shoulders. He won’t take it off until he’s standing at the door._

_But the pill works quickly, the blunt smoothes away the worries and quivers like he’s being pressed under a hot iron and the anxiety disappears like steam. Cloud feels calm as he goes into the suite. The time passes slowly and he observes each moment in detail. It’s not painful though. His brain is detached, logical, almost emotionless. He talks himself down steadily, like he’s his own fucking shrink, as his client puts him through the familiar paces._

_His hands are cuffed and suspended above his head. He knows to expect alternating flogging and groping. The hands are much worse than the leather, but Cloud can deal. With his emotions pressed so thin and transparent, so easily explained away, he can handle any of this. He knows his body will heal quickly. He knows that this deal he made was the best option, by miles. He knows, for the moment, that what this client is doing doesn’t change who he is, what he is, even if he gasps or cries or comes._

_Their time together ends, as always, with Cloud on his knees on the bathroom's tile floor, sucking off the plump, middle-aged man. It’s not easy, with his hands still cuffed, and it always takes long enough that his jaw aches from the strain. This client doesn’t rush to completion. He wants to see Cloud's face streaked tears and eye makeup and spit. To mess him up. Cloud knows he’ll be here for a while and his mind starts to drift. To nowhere in particular, just turning over old memories like stones. Seeing what creeps underneath. Most of his life is easier to review under the calming effect of blunt._

_And then, a surprise. The client stops holding Cloud’s head onto his cock and shoves him back. A thick, meaty palm slams into his cheek hard enough to knock him off his half-asleep knees. Cloud finds himself on the ground, head reeling and with a sharp, stinging pain on his cheekbone. That’s right. This man wears a heavy gold ring. Maybe he went to a fancy college. Maybe he’s just a rich dick. That’s going to leave a fucking mark._

_“Where’s your head at today? You’re pretty, baby, but I expect some god damn effort.” The client jerks Cloud back upright by the rings on his harness._

_“Yes sir.”_

_“You gonna be a good whore now?”_ _  
_   
“Yes sir.”

_“Show me.”_

_Cloud opens his mouth wide, tongue out, and gazes up to meet his client’s eyes._

_“Good boy.”_

_Doing just what he knows looks best, Cloud gags and tears up and blinks with wide eyes until the client finally finishes on his face._

_He can tell by now, from the dull, deepening, ache, that he’s going to have a black eye, but that’s not the worst part. This suite has a gaudy gold and marble bathroom, with a large tub in the middle. The worst part is the bath. The worst part is the fucking bath._

_The client strips off the cuffs and the leather, rubbing the sensation back into his wrists and fingers with clammy hands, and assists Cloud into the bath like he’s some sweet sub in need of aftercare. Every inch of skin is stroked and cleaned while the client murmurs on about how Cloud is so beautiful and obedient and looks so good covered in cum or whatever. Slowly, slowly he’s washing away Cloud’s chemical shield. Wearing down the layers of protection until the words start sinking into him like blades._

_He finishes by washing the cum and eye makeup from Cloud’s face, and gently dabs at the split skin on his already swelling cheek. “Next time... I’m sure I won’t need to resort to this type of measure. Next time you’ll be on your very best behavior.” He cocks an eyebrow like it’s a question, and waits._

_Eventually Cloud gathers himself enough to reply “yes sir.” The blunt is mostly gone and the touching…. It's coating him like poison. Like the only thing to do is rip off all this skin and try to start fresh._

_The client leaves Cloud in the tub. Cloud stays there taking deep breaths and wishing he could smell anything other than the expensive vanilla soap. He wishes he had taken two tabs, but unfortunately he’s picked an expensive, ShinRa-designed drug to rely on. He needs to get out of this fucking bathroom but as soon as he stands up, his stomach clenches and his mouth fills with salty spit. Stumbling over the side of the tub, he barely makes it to kneel over the toilet in time. Since he can’t rip off the skin, his body has decided to empty from the inside out._

_Miko’s in the room before he’s finished vomiting. His presence is simultaneously sympathetic and business-as-usual. He looks things over carefully. He’s seen a lot worse, even from Cloud, and he knows how to ease an escort out of a suite. Out of a bad experience. He’s holding the black robe in one hand, and with the other he offers Cloud a hand, hauling him up palm to palm like they’re just two dudes on a basketball court._

_He winces when he sees the shiner forming on Cloud’s left eye. “Well, at least you’ll get extra for it. I’ll make sure the desk charges him for it.”_

_Cloud shrugs. “It’ll probably be gone by tomorrow night.”_

_“I dunno man, looks like he clocked you pretty good.” Miko never treats Cloud too gently… not the same as he is with the girls. And Cloud appreciates it. But Miko still drains the tub, flushes the vomit, and scoops up the harness and handcuffs and dirty towels. He isn’t the slightest squicked out. Cloud thinks he must wash his hands a lot. “I’ll take care of this shit. You go shower. Last client of the night, right?”_

_Cloud nods as he heads out the door. His robe is on. Shoulders are forced back to his usual, very upright posture. “Thanks, man.”_

////

Miko was right. While Cloud slept late this morning (hoping enough time unconscious would help the night fade away), the shiner blossomed spectacularly with a rainbow of colors. At best it would be green by tomorrow, instead of black and purple. Cloud might have to get one of the girls to make him up again. And, the touch of that client still lingered like a bad taste in the back of his mouth. 

Thus, Cloud marched into the gym around 1pm, head still aching, in a particularly bad mood, and with the intention of beating himself up until his skin stopped crawling. After warming up, he spent 20 minutes whaling on the heavy bag and then wandered over to the free weights, lifting to failure. The muscle fatigue was a familiar feeling. A good feeling. It’s the best way he knows to take care of himself. Plus, it reminds him that he, ex-third-class or not, can beat the shit out of anyone in Wall Market, and likely Sector 6. 

He finishes his first, punishing, set of 50 pull ups and is about to tackle a second when Jimmy calls out from the ring.

“You worn out enough to spar yet, fucker?”

Jimmy owns this shithole, and it was Cloud’s best stroke of luck in a year when Jimmy recognized him in a noodle shop and invited him back to the gym for a spar. Although the older man is probably in his forties, with a graying ponytail, he is still a muscle-bound hulk and a damn good fighter. He had a string of winning years at the coliseum before he decided he was too old for it and bought out an old warehouse tucked just east of Corneo’s mansion. It’s spare, run down, and barely big enough for the weights and two rings he’s crammed into it. But it’s got what Cloud needs, and everybody minds their own business.

“None of that MMA shit,” he told Cloud on their first spar… and it was actually good training to get by without the kicking or grappling that Cloud tended to lean on heavily in fights. It evened the playing field a bit, and Jimmy got in one or two that left Cloud gasping and stumbling into the ropes. Cloud has come back nearly every day since he fell off the plate so hard he landed in Wall Market. They don’t always spar, but Jimmy will often ask Cloud to take on some up-and-comer for a few rounds to help them prep for a fight in the underground or coliseum. 

“Hold on,” Cloud replies jumping up to the bar. “Let me just do a hundred more pull ups so I don’t knock you out on the first hit,”

“I’ll wait,” comes the reply.

But Cloud would rather fight. He grabs his wraps and mitts with a small smile and ducks under the ropes, already hungry for it. Fighting feels too good to resist. It sets him to rights and helps him burn off all the anger simmering around in his veins day to day. Getting knocked around by Jimmy is just what he needs, like each hit makes his bones align in just the right way. Jimmy is always good for a few solid hits, especially if Cloud is already worn out.

After a few rounds of Jimmy slugging into him… making him dance around the strong jabs, Cloud started feeling his footwork get sloppy and slow. He’d been at the gym for nearly two hours when he falls for a feint and takes a hook just under his ribs. He calls it, pulling off his gloves and spitting out his mouthguard

“Good hit Jimmy. I gotta stop. My ribs can’t take it.”

“Pussy. All that mako in your blood and you can’t go thirty minutes with me?

Cloud smiles. “Tell ya what, you match my deadlift and we can go an hour.”

“Ehh, you just want to see me bend over, pretty boy,” comes the retort. “It’s okay, you shouldn’t risk getting a twin for that black eye.”

Cloud flips him off. Jimmy’s never asked him about work… or any of his marks... and he hopes he never will. But he almost certainly knows. Wall Market isn’t actually all that big, and despite running the most run-down, hole-in-the-wall gym this side of sector five, Jimmy is connected. He may have even been keeping an eye out for Cloud, that day when the gym owner startled him by yelling, “Shit, you’re Storm aren’t you!” over a bowl of ramen.

Cloud climbs through the ropes and falls heavily onto a bench in front of the bank of lockers with peeling blue paint that Jimmy reserves for his regulars. Propping elbows on knees, Cloud breathes deep while sweat pours down his head and drips off his nose onto the floor. Thoroughly worn out, he still feels about a thousand times better than he did two hours ago. He strips off his handwraps, throwing them into his bag, and stands up to peel off the t-shirt that has been soaked to his skin for the past hour.

The head rush is a surprise. Maybe he should have had lunch before coming. He stumbles a bit with his shirt at his shoulders and bumps his sweaty back into someone trying to ease around him in the narrow strip between the ring and the bench.

“Sorry,” he says, blinking away the tunnel vision and pulling the shirt off his head. He turns around to see who he’s apologizing to.

It’s Lila. Straight out of his fantasies and back in the flesh, fully formed: the punishment he deserves for lusting after a john. She’s in black today. A narrow-cut tank top shows off the lines of her shoulders and the muscles in her well-defined arms. Short black shorts. Chestnut hair pulled back in two boxer braids snaking over her shoulders. Seeing her face again, her curving mouth and almost sly brown eyes, her features suddenly snap back into place in all his indulgent daydreams. The clear image of her face, looking up at him, lust-dazed from the loveseat, tumbles into his head and his chest feels tight. Lila on the floor, skirt pulled up. Lila on the bed with her hands on her neck. He’s spiraling. _Fuuuuck._

In the gym, the unfortunately not imaginary Lila considers him with mild disgust as she wipes his sweat off her cheek with the back of one thumb.

Cloud gapes, and then snaps his mouth shut in embarrassment. “Are you _following_ me?” He covers his discomfort with irritation that borders on anger. It’s easy to do -- he’s been followed before. Although he likely wouldn’t get the same warm fuzzies about beating the shit out of Lila in a nearby alley.

But she isn’t intimidated in the slightest. The open look on her face falls away as she matches his mood with narrow eyes and a hint of scorn. “I’ve been coming to this gym for two years.”

She shoulders past him but only takes two steps before she drops her bag on the bench. Rapping her knuckles on a locker, she turns to him expectantly over her shoulder. Cloud looks. There’s her name, scrawled in Jimmy’s all-caps handwriting, on a dingy stripe of masking tape. It’s stuck to a locker three over from the locker sporting his own name. The tape saying “LILA” is dirty and peeling up at the edges. It’s been here a while.

 _Well shit_. Cloud isn’t quite sure what to do with this information. There’s a lot processing in his head all at once. For one, he’s acted like a jackass. Also, he’s… remarkably unobservant? How many times has he shared this space with Lila, and not even looked up? Have they sat on this bench, two feet apart, peeling sweaty shirts off of damp skin? It had barely registered in his brain that women worked out in this gym too, much less attractive ones.

Another thought stalls his brain completely. She _knew_ him. Obviously she knew who he was and she… why the fuck would she come see him at the Inn? He can’t figure out if it’s flattering or creepy or how exactly he’s supposed to feel about this. 

“Huh.” It’s all he can come up with. He stares rather distantly at the bank of lockers.

Lila turns back to her gear, huffing through her nose. She pulls on a pair of fingerless training gloves, throws her bag in the locker, and stalks off towards the free weights. She’s slipped past the corner of the ring before he even registers that she’s moving.

“Hey Jimmy,” she calls, giving a sharp, two-fingered wave as she passes the ropes. Jimmy’s still in the ring, holding focus mitts for a lanky kid who needs the practice.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says, distracted.

Cloud allows himself a single, quick glance through the ropes at the appealing curve of her neck and the set of her shoulders before he hightails it out of there, still shirtless. 

////

He’s spooked and he’s starving. He’s aroused and disturbed. Cloud’s heart is thrumming like he’s going on a mission. This is not a comfortable feeling and he resolves to excise Lila from his mind entirely. There is nothing good that can come from getting so… _what word is appropriate_? Interested? Invested? Focused? Unbalanced? Whatever it is, his life is going to be a lot simpler if he just turns off this spigot immediately.

It’s Sunday and the market is just starting to hum and buzz as it fills with the usual crowd of pleasure-seekers. Cloud ignores the fortune tellers, the bookies, the pill vendors, and buys a giant order of yakisoba, from a street vendor. He doesn’t want to leave his apartment again today. 

The constant noise blurs over his senses, but his skin prickles like something is _off_ in the market. He looks around warily, starting with the shops around him and then raising his eyes to dingy windows and balconies. Is someone watching him? Is Lila actually following him? _Ugh_. He rolls his shoulders back and cracks his neck. He’s losing it. Maybe he needs some blunt. He takes a roundabout course home, moving through twisty alleyways, in case someone is following.

Cloud’s place is on the south edge of Wall Market. A tidy, narrow building standing behind a massage parlour and a materia shop, meaning that it’s actually reasonably quiet at night. It’s a small flat, but nicer than most. There’s a reason whores covet spots at the Honeybee Inn; his earnings are good by under-plate standards. Enough to live well, indulge his hobbies, and send some home to mom. Maybe he should be grateful, given the alternative, but he’s gonna have to work up to that one.

A great sigh tumbles out as soon as he locks the door behind him. He drops his noodles and gym bag down on the coffee table, and lays face down on the floor. There’s something peaceful about being flat on the ground and he takes deep, slow breaths that make his back rise and fall. Calm comes, and he rolls over with a groan to start stretching out all the muscles he abused at the gym.

The routine is soothing. He slurps down half the noodles and feels immeasurably better. His life is fine. He is fine. He can do this. Live this. He doesn’t need blunt to hang out at home. Cloud climbs into a hot shower and finally feels clean once the sweat washes down the drain..

He emerges content. Throws on some sweats and heads into his living room for a night of shitty TV and probably sleeping on the couch. 

But there’s somebody on his couch already.

_Reno._


	3. The story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno pulls the whole story out of Cloud.

Cloud nearly jumps out of his skin. Grabs the doorframe in surprise. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Reno?”

He’s all suited up. Ponytail as long as ever. Ankle crossed on knee, looking cool and cocky and rumpled like always. Cloud can remember how much Reno lusted after that suit. How ecstatic he was when he first slid the jacket over his shoulders, while Cloud bit back his jealousy, wondering if he’d ever make it into SOLDIER.

“Nice to see you too, Cloud.” Reno looks calm on his couch... but Cloud knows him well enough to feel the anger vibrating in his voice. It’s usually a precursor to violence. _Good luck, buddy._

They are both silent for a beat. 

“Seriously. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? Reno’s voice gets higher, crackling with strain. “Why the _fuck_ are _you_ here Cloud? Why the fuck are you living in Wall Market? And Odin's electric jizz, why didn’t you _tell_ me you were here.”

Reno is just getting started. His anger is red vapor in the room. He’s stalking towards Cloud with each question. “How come, I gotta find out when I see your goddamn face is the escort’s book at the Honeybee Inn? Under your _actual_ name? And that desk bitch tells me you’ve been here for _six fucking months_?” He's inches away now, leaning down to get in Cloud’s face. “What the fuck, Cloud?” 

So he knows. Reno knows he’s a whore. Even saw his headshot. It’s a sucker punch and Cloud can barely swallow over the furious knot in his throat. The words just grate out slowly.

“What does it matter? You upset you haven’t gotten to fuck me yet? I work Tuesday night, Reno. You can have your turn.”

Reno throws the first punch. And the second and the third. He’s whip-fast and rage-fueled. Cloud is stronger and a better fighter, but he’s tired. So completely tired. Reno has his mag-rod, his anger, and a lifetime of fighting dirty to his advantage. Cloud bloodies his nose, grazes his ribs, but Reno just pulls him in close and knees him in the balls without restraint. When Cloud keels over gasping, Reno slams him back into the wall by his shirt collar, mag-rod shoved into his stomach.

“I thought you were _dead,_ man.” He hisses. _“Dead._ Little baby Cloudy. That teensy kid who I taught to take shots. Who told me about his first lay. Who tied my shoes and buttoned my shirt when I accidentally took crank before an inspection. Floating dead in a mako mine.”

Angry tears leak out with the words. Cloud isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Reno cry before.

With one final shove, Reno releases him to wipe his eyes with gloved hands. Cloud slowly slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He looks at his knees. He looks at Reno’s shiny boots. He speaks quietly.

“Sorry you thought that… but now you know. And really, what's different? You were already… done… with me. You don't need me dragging you down.”

Reno looks down at the top of his head. He pulls a flask out of his jacket and sprawls sloppily down to the floor, legs crossed, next to his friend. At least, Reno still thinks of him that way.

He takes a long pull from the flask, thinking about what to say.

“Cloud, I’m shit at this stuff. I’m… sorry.” His thoughts start tumbling out, disordered. “I wish I coulda stopped what happened. All of it. I was never _done_ with you, but I wish I had known how to help you. But man, I tried my best. I really fucking did.”

Cloud looks at him incredulously and bursts. “What did you try? You were _there!_ Reno, you were there, at the party. You _saw_ Genesis grab me. You _saw_ him drag me into that room. You didn’t do a thing, and neither did anyone else.” The words sit heavy between them.

“Yeah.” Reno’s feeling unusually short on words for a second. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” He takes a deep breath. “But what were we gonna do Cloud? We’re all drunk off our asses, not one of you baby Thirds had even gotten enhancements yet, and a fucking war hero blazes in with fresh-injection mako eyes and nabs you. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I had a freaking panic attack and called Fair like twenty times but he was on a mission and didn’t know if I should break down the door or call security and… Genesis… just...” his words stop. _Raped you._

It was pretty fucking clear to Reno now, although he had been fooling himself at the time. Maybe Cloud was just going to blow the crazy First-class. The blond had occasionally traded favors with other cadets. Or maybe they were talking about training. Maybe Cloud wasn’t as straight as he said. Nothing had been clear to Reno that night. But then the door opened and a limp blond body stumbled out into the hallway half-conscious and with a shoulder that was clearly dislocated. His brand-new uniform was in disarray but Reno had studiously avoided looking at anything below his shoulders. He had just scooped Cloud up and carried him straight to the infirmary, surprised at his own strength and ability to do it dead drunk. 

“Yeah,” says Cloud. “He just did.”

“I get it, it was super shitty.” Reno flinches at the inadequacy of his words and then barrels on so they don’t linger. “And I didn’t know what to do! I’m not a shrink, Cloud. I’m like… the opposite of therapeutic. And you didn’t want to talk about it anyway. You were just… everything had changed.”

The next few months were a disaster. Cloud was healed and back in his own apartment before sunrise. There was obviously no report made. Reno had whispered “a First…” to the nurse and she had immediately shooed him out of the clinic. Not a word was said about the incident by the other Thirds, or anyone in leadership. Genesis was a war hero and a ShinRa asset, had probably saved the Silver General’s life, and blah blah blah. It was as if nothing happened.

On the other hand, Cloud had gone from a grumpy-but-loveable, passable-to-average fighter to an angry, unpredictable powerhouse overnight. He was quiet until he snapped and yelled. His fighting was wild and aggressive. He frequently lost control during spars and injured people. He let _himself_ be injured just as frequently through carelessness. This change happened at the same time that the newly-minted Thirds were receiving their first mako injections, so Cloud’s whiplash personality change was lost in the noise for the first month. But after that, it was clear to everyone that something was really wrong with the spiky-headed SOLDIER. He mostly avoided being with people, and at that point most of his class was happy to be avoided.

Reno’s approach to this new and dangerous Cloud was to offer booze, drugs, and women in that order. The booze was what Cloud took to the best. Unfortunately, Cloud was not a tame drunk. He dragged Reno into bar fights so many times that Tseng had threatened him with a demotion… and since Reno was still at the very bottom rung of the Turks, he suspected that meant that Tseng might just shoot him in the head and leave him in a dumpster. It was certainly chilling enough to keep him out of the bars for a while.

Reno saw Cloud, his friend since Reno had climbed into the bunk above him in the cadet barracks, slipping away. And the young Turk was running out of the energy to keep trying. 

Then lightning struck and Reno had the brilliant idea to enter Cloud into an underground fighting ring. It seemed like such a win-win. Cloud gets to work out his aggression in an acceptable way. Reno gets rich betting on the little terror. The Turk even picked his name and got him a singlet that said “STORM” on the back. Sure ShinRa would find it undignified for one of their precious SOLDIERs to fight in the underground, but the company turned a blind eye to plenty of shit that happened under the plate. Plus, Reno had a sense that they were just waiting to see if Cloud could sort himself out and harness this aggression, or if he needed to be removed from the SOLDIER program, whatever that might look like. Maybe they’d let him try it.

And that plan went just peachy for about three months, until Cloud brutally killed someone in the ring. 

The blond had been totally amenable to fighting in the underground when Reno brought it up. He could see on his own that he needed something, some outlet, to hold himself together. The first fight was an incredible release. Cloud had finally found a place where he could channel all the anger that kept spilling out of him. He won that fight, but Reno could tell it didn’t even matter. Cloud was just happy that his knuckles were bruised and his face was bloody. 

The underground fights were wild to the point of chaos. Most of the fighters had flashy costumes and ridiculous personas. They’d come to the ring with their music, their dance moves, their exhortations to the crowd. Cloud was very understated in comparison, but the minute the bell rang he turned into a maniac… hands, elbows, knees, shoulders, feet whirling. The crowds loved him. He fought with an unusually fluid combination of styles, kicking and grappling. He had a fantastic roundhouse kick.

Anyone who knew enough said that he was expending way too much energy, too quickly. And Reno figured they were right. But then again, Cloud had mako on his side and he usually won anyway. Even if he didn’t, his losses were equally energetic and spectacular. Cloud kept fighting until he literally could not pick himself up off the mat. Either way, he was calmer the next day. More like the sweet kid Reno had pulled out of his shell. Baby Cloudy starting to peek back through. Reno thought it was helping. 

The night everything went down, Reno was sitting front row, discreet in his civvies, having placed his customary bet. He thought of that bet as good luck, but not for Cloud winning. He knew Cloud would be okay either way. What he wanted was for every fight to bring Cloud whatever he needed to stay sane. 

Cloud was up against The Machine that night. He was a nasty piece of work whose persona involved a lot of hip thrusting and whose fighting style involved as many groin shots as the refs would let him get away with. Reno knew his heavyweight slugger style would be a challenge for Cloud, especially because The Machine was one hundred percent on mako enhancers. That unrefined shit almost gave his skin a greenish cast. Reno had heard that this beast of a man was one of Corneo’s fighters in the coliseum, and he wondered idly if Corneo was running the underground too. That man was a spider whose web touched everything unsavory in Midgar.

The fight started as expected, with Cloud flying around with energy to burn, gloves thudding at rapid pace, while The Machine just absorbed it all like rain. By the fifth round, Reno could see the signs that Cloud was flagging, and, like always, he funneled every ounce of energy into his attack, and neglected his defenses.

Reno was used to seeing it. Although it wasn’t fun to watch his buddy get knocked around, it was easy to relax when the mako meant that Cloud would be healed up in a few days. Having seen this type of fight a few times now, Reno could sense the direction things were headed. Cloud was getting worn down. The expected hit came when he was a bit slow getting his guard back after a combo. His bulky opponent saw an opportunity, and delivered a full bodied liver punch that had Reno moaning in sympathetic pain. It dropped Cloud to his knees, pale and shaking. The crowd went crazy, knowing that such a shot could end the fight immediately, but that “Storm” would get back up if anyone could. 

When Cloud tumbled forward with one glove to the mat, Reno knew the fight was over. He could only see Cloud in profile, but he was gasping like he still couldn’t breathe right, gaze unfocused. The Machine was prowling back and forth across the ring, riling up the crowd until they chanted Ma-chine! Ma-chine! Ma-chine! He ripped off his gloves, wanting to give them an even better show. That’s what the underground was all about anyway: showmanship.

The green-tinged hulk tore off Cloud’s helmet, grabbed him by the hair and shook him around a bit. Cloud was clearly still stunned, hanging limply from his hand. His mouthguard tumbled to the mat. 

When Reno saw what happened next, he thought he would have a heart attack. Thought his heart might have already stopped beating. The Machine shoved a hand into his shorts to pull out his own half-hard dick and then pressed Cloud, by the back of his head to his crotch, thrusting grotesquely into his face. 

The noise from the crowd was insane and so was Reno. His brain overheated with panic. He did this. This was his fault. Cloud, in his fragile state, was going to break for good. Within a heartbeat Reno had lunged out of his chair and was fighting with a burly guard trying to get into the ring and do _something_ instead of fucking nothing this time.

Struggling against the bigger man, all Reno could do was yell into the din, “Cloud! Cloud _snap out of it!”_

And finally Cloud did. The SOLDIERs called them mako surges. Bursts of strength and energy, prompted by adrenaline, that could turn the tide in battle. Still trying to get through the ropes, Reno saw Cloud’s eyes snap open and they were straight, luminescent green. One blink and The Machine was down on the mat. One more and Cloud had ripped the beast’s helmet off. After that Reno had to turn away. It was a fucking mess and he got enough of that in his day job.

There were some hard lines in the underground after all. Forced blowjobs were _ehhh_ but bashing someone’s head in was a _no-no_. Security was called and Cloud was hauled off to containment. 

He wasn’t allowed visitors and there wasn’t a trial. People probably had that shit on video so Reno could understand the reasoning. ShinRa washed its hands of Cloud immediately, making him just another below-plate killer, albeit one with glowing eyes. 

The next thing Reno had heard, Cloud was being shipped off to do five years' forced labor in a mako mine near Corel. Two weeks later Reno asked Tseng to follow up and had gotten the news. Cloud Strife had already died in the mine.

////

“Anyway.” Reno took another sip from his flask. “Last I heard you were sent off to work the mines. And dead. Yet, here you are, livin’ it up in Wall Market. You owe me a story.”

“Fuck off. I don’t owe you anything,” Cloud lies to them both, resting his head on his knees. But he already senses that he’ll spill it. Reno’s been getting stories out of him since he was sixteen years old. Long before the redhead even got Turk interrogation training.

“I fuckin’ cried in Tseng’s office,” Reno retorts. “Rude had to walk me home. Tseng gave me two days off.”

“Aww, you’re sweet,” Cloud teases, but it comes out with a sharp edge.

“I can make you _actually_ dead.”

Cloud lifts his head to see Reno. Sitting here bullshitting with him, Cloud almost felt like a person again. He feels… awake.

“Fine. Give me that flask.” Reno hands it over without delay and pulls a second one out of his jacket. Cloud can’t help but laugh.

“You never change.”

“Never,” Reno agrees. “Now talk.”

So Cloud does. He hasn’t actually related this story to anyone before. Not the whole thing. Barely any of it really. 

He’d laid around in that jail cell, listless and waiting to hear all the ways his life was over for five days. The judge occasionally came by to chat with him, but he never actually asked any questions relevant to the incident. Cloud could barely be bothered to look at the man.

On the third day, Cloud received papers from Shinra that clarified exactly how few fucks they gave about him and summarily revoked his status as a SOLDIER, third class.

On the fourth day, the judge called him into his office to formally sentence him. Five years’ hard labor in the mako mines. The judge said what a shame it was for an _appealing_ young man to lose so much, but that this was a generous sentence and Cloud should be grateful. When their eyes met, Cloud knew there was something off about the fucker. But he also knew that he was entirely at the mercy of whatever “justice” this system would offer him, so he mumbled out some gratitude before they took him back to his cell.

“They let me stew in there all night… worrying about my mom. Worrying about, yeah, dying in a pool of mako. All that shit.” Cloud’s lips ghost up in an imitation of a smile. “And then on the fifth day, Corneo strolls into my cell.”

Reno meets his eyes coolly but says nothing. Of fucking course he did. That’s the most obvious path to where they are today.

“He told me that he’d been watching me in the underground.” Cloud gives a hollow laugh, “I actually thought at first he wanted me to fight for him.” He shakes his head at his own naïveté. “But then he told me…” saying it is torture for Cloud, but he wants to lean into that pain so he looks dead at Reno with a sneer.

“He told me I had a face that begs to be topped. That a lot of people would pay to fuck someone with eyes like mine and he was going to do me a favor.”

Reno snorts as he climbs back onto Cloud’s couch and rests his head on a pillow. “Shit, that man has a nose for business.” Because of course Cloud’s a pretty boy. If Reno had twenty gil for every time he had to explain to a fellow cadet that, no, the delicious little blond didn’t actually like dick. _Yeah, I've seen his ass too pal, but you should just give it up or he'll deck ya._ Corneo saw that appeal just like everyone else.

Cloud doesn’t bother gathering the energy to be pissed at Reno. He lays back down on the floor in front of the coffee table, pours more whiskey into his mouth, and continues. “He said he’d let me come work at the Inn. If I stayed busy and kept the clients happy, he’d let me go in three years. Plus he’d let me keep my pay. I could send it to my mom. Never even tell her that I wasn’t with ShinRa anymore.”

“It’s a good deal,” Reno says like he’s talking about the price of a used car.

“I know.”

“Devil’s in the details though… did you get a contract?”

“Oh yeah, we worked the whole fucking thing out. At least three nights a week, three clients a night. More if I want it.”

Reno cuts in, “Shit that’s good hours for a whore. That’s a sweetheart setup.”

Cloud exhales, giving in to the idea of holding anything back from Reno. “It’s because I get used pretty rough. Need time to heal up.”

Reno nods to himself. Cloud’s got a hell of a shiner. That’s no surprise, but then again, not many whores get treated sweetly. He says no more, but still thinks it’s a generous contract. A SOLDIER oughta be able to handle it. 

Cloud wants to get through the whole thing, grateful that Reno's managed to keep quiet. Rip off the bandaid. “He gave me an hour to decide, but it wasn’t all that hard. Send money to mom. Stay alive. Sweetheart deal, like you said.” Cloud peers straight up at his ceiling. “He made me seal the deal with a blow job.” 

The thought of blowing Corneo disgusts Reno, but it doesn’t matter. Sometimes being a Turk is disgusting too. So is growing up in the slums. He could tell Cloud a hundred stories just as bad. But he keeps his mouth uncharacteristically shut, feeling unsuited to giving comfort. 

Cloud sits up to look at him and Reno doesn’t have to school his features into the calm acceptance that he feels. _Of course he did. Of course you did it. That’s just how the world works._

Realizing no verbal reaction is coming, Cloud finishes. “That afternoon Leslie shows up. He’s the Don’s..,”

“I know Leslie,” Reno cuts in. “He ain’t bad.”

“He throws some clean clothes at me and we walk out like it’s nothing. He drops me off at the Inn and here we are, several hundred fucks later. Oh, and my first client was the judge.”

Reno laughs at that. “No surprise there. So can I ask questions?”

“Fine,” Cloud responds shortly. He’s already told Reno some of the worst and it didn’t kill him. 

“So what services do you offer? Obviously you bottom.” 

Cloud grunts his assent. Reno knows that Cloud had let others fuck him at least a few times at ShinRa. He had been shocked when the little blond admitted it with a blasé shrug after Reno, tired of fielding inquiries from their peers, asked him just exactly how straight he was. _Ninety plus percent Reno. I’ve tried it. Both ways. It’s not for me._

Reno didn’t press him to say who he let top him, but he always suspected Fair. That man could charm anyone into bed. 

“So bondage? Beating? Knife play? Couples?” Reno’s eyebrows lift higher and higher with each idea.

“Yeah all of that. I do almost everything,” Cloud says, “except for top men. Corneo mostly just cared that I agreed to bottom and to bareback.”

Reno sighs his fake disappointment. “Still can’t get ya to fuck me, huh? You see men exclusively?”

“Nah. Mostly, but Andrea’s been trying to sell me as a Dom to draw more women.”

“Dang. Baby Cloud. Six months of regular, kinky sex. I bet you’re more experienced than I am by now.”

Cloud gave up on fighting that nickname three years ago. “Obviously,” he replies shortly.

“So tell, me what’s the kinkiest shit you’ve seen?”

Cloud is silent for a moment, running through his memories and trying to decide how painful it will be to tell these stories. If putting them to words will make them more real. 

“Ummm…” 

Reno waits a full minute before he runs out of patience. “C’mon Cloud. You can’t keep all this stuff bottled up. You’ll feel better if you tell me. Nothin’ wrong with honest work.” Reno’s unsure if he’s trying to help his friend or if he really just wants dirty stories. 

“Well, there’s this dude who likes to watch me fuck his wife. And the whole time he tells me exactly what to do, step by step, including slapping her around.”

“Good start,” Reno gives his usual smile. Part devious, part dangerous. “What else?” 

Cloud feeds him a few more tidbits. Having to wear cat ears and a collar. The man who only wanted Cloud to feed him a three course dinner with his fingers while he touched himself under the table. He actually seemed delighted every time Cloud looked at him with disgust. The surprising number of women who want to be overpowered by a SOLDIER. 

Reno is amused but not impressed. He thinks Cloud is holding back. “Next time I want the good stuff,” he says. 

_The good stuff?_ Cloud repeats to himself, bemused that anything in his life could be described that way.

Why’d you cut your hair?”

Cloud runs his fingers through the close crop. The spikes on top are barely long enough to stick out through his fingers. “Tired of people coming in it. Yanking me around by it.” 

“I can see that,” Reno nods. He’d have come in Cloud’s hair too, given the chance. 

“Pissed Andrea right off. He told me not to make any other decisions concerning my appearance without his approval.”

“Can see that too. But you’re still pretty, Baby Cloud.”

Cloud doesn’t mention that his spiky hair was part homage to first-class SOLDIERs, all of whom sported equally high-maintenance hairstyles. Cutting his hair was like shedding that dream for good. It was almost a relief to be done with it.

As Cloud starts getting talked out, Reno picks up the conversational slack. He tells Cloud about his most recent failures in his self-appointed mission to make Tseng laugh in the office and the last time he accidentally electrocuted his new partner on a mission. Apparently it has happened more than once. “I swear, man, I thought Rude was gonna knock my teeth out.”

Laying on the floor with his eyes closed, Reno’s voice is comforting in a way Cloud couldn’t have anticipated. They had roomed together for years, and Reno couldn’t shut up if he was awake, so most evenings Cloud had fallen asleep listening to just this type of undemanding prattle. 

As Cloud processes why this feels good, and just how far gone those days are, his throat begins to feel tighter and tighter, until each breath can barely scrape through. He lays as still as possible, breathing shallowly.

Reno leans forward to look at him over the coffee table. “You ok, man?”

Cloud tries to answer but the words can’t pass either. He swallows. On the second try the only sound he can make is a half-choked sob. It’s so embarrassing. He crosses his arms and presses them over his face, turning away.

“Oh shit…” Reno mutters as he scoots around to sit on the floor by Cloud and lay one hand awkwardly on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be ok, man. You’re ok.”

Cloud just shakes his head, chest heaving, as he tries to control his breathing. Reno is wrong on both accounts.

Having no idea how to comfort him, Reno just talks. “You got a great setup here. Nothin wrong with being a whore. My mom was probably a whore. It’s good work... cleaner than being a Turk, even. Face like yours, it’s almost criminal not to do sex work. You’re like, hooker first class.”

Cloud chokes out a laugh at that. After all these years he’s just so used to Reno blurting out the wrong thing with good intentions. Reno sits, squeezing his upper arm with both hands while Cloud finally gets himself under control and sits up.

They look at each other awkwardly and Reno is reminded of when Cloud failed his first SOLDIER exam. He didn’t know what to say then either.

“Hug?” Reno says it teasingly, but opens his arms.

“God, you’re such a sissy,” Cloud replies, but scoots a bit closer and lets Reno wrap lanky arms around his shoulders and squeeze him.

It’s such a small gesture, but Cloud hasn’t had this kind of positive touch in such a long time he’s afraid he’ll start crying again. He’s relieved when Reno lets him go quickly.

When their eyes meet again Reno claps him on the shoulder and looks at him seriously. “Cloud, I’m proud of ya. You are going to be okay. And I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

Cloud looks away.

“And if you ever do that to me again, I will find you and kill you myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

Reno stands up, brushes off his suit, and starts tucking away his smokes and flasks. “I better get going. When are we doing this again?”

“Ummm…” For Cloud this has been such an odd interlude, it’s hard to imagine seeing Reno again.

“Well what nights do ya work?  
  
“Friday, Saturday, and Tuesday.”

“And when you’re not working, you just sit around here and sulk, I assume?”

Cloud blushes and says nothing.

“Right. Wednesday it is. PIck some place around here and I’ll meetcha. I already put my number in your phone.”

“Okay,” Cloud says as Reno heads to the door. “It was… really good to see you.” The words are so uncomplicated compared to his feelings.

“Course it was! I”m a god damn delight.” 

Reno is nearly out the door when something else occurs to Cloud.

“Hey Reno! Don’t tell anybody, ok?”

Cloud can tell that Reno wishes he had forgotten to ask this. He considers Cloud briefly before agreeing. “Okay, bud. See ya Wednesday. Or else.”

With one last smirk he’s out the door. Cloud feels utterly wrung out by the day. He climbs into bed and falls asleep instantly.


End file.
